


A Chance Encounter

by Melody_Jade



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Love at First Sight, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-17 11:32:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5867647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melody_Jade/pseuds/Melody_Jade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cities are paradoxical places. In the entire history of human civilisation, no other place had held a greater density of people than these concrete jungles, filled to the brim with individuals. Each with a story of their own, a dream they hoped to achieve, but all with the same common goal - to make a better future for themselves. And yet, despite sharing the same space, these people, and their stories, rarely intersect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Chance Encounter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wasabipeas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wasabipeas/gifts).



> This fic was inspired by the book 'A Chance of Sunshine' (also known as Turn Left, Turn Right), written and illustrated by Jimmy Liao. No knowledge of the book is necessary to read this fic though. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy it, wasabipeas, and Happy Valentine's Day!

* * *

 

Cities are paradoxical places. In the entire history of human civilisation, no other place had held a greater density of people than these concrete jungles, filled to the brim with individuals. Each with a story of their own, a dream they hoped to achieve, but all with the same common goal - to make a better future for themselves.

And yet, despite sharing the same space, these people, and their stories, rarely intersect.

It is ironic, perhaps, that a place that brought so many people together can also make you feel most alone. Too busy trying to achieve their dreams, people hurry from one destination to the next, wrapped up in their own world, never stopping to acknowledge those that walked the same paths they did. Never realizing just how much they shared with each other - be it the frustration of trying to get on a crowded train, or the soothing sight of a rainbow that appeared after a sudden afternoon shower. 

Have you ever wondered if the person who sat opposite you on the train could have become a good friend?  Or if the person you just passed on the street might have been a kindred spirit? Perhaps you might have even met your soulmate without realizing it?

This is the story of two such people.

* * *

 

The city in our story is London, with her gloomy weather, absent sun, and a population of millions. Across the river Thames, a distinctive skyline presides over red buses and black cabs as their exhaust rises to join the grey skies, while the famous London tube network runs underground, groaning under the weight of all its passengers. Modern buildings with glossy glass windows stands alongside ancient statues and historic cemeteries – this is an old city, and it has seen much. It had nurtured and given wings to dreams, but it had also kept some chained, buried somewhere forgotten. And even now, people still flock to it, filling the city with new hopes and stories. Each and every one of them is a story worth telling, but here, we would zoom in on two people, whose lives changed irrevocably when their paths crossed.

But first, an introduction.

This was Arthur Pendragon: he studied years for a law degree, and now worked at his father’s law firm, hoping to be made partner soon. He had much to prove, both to his formidable father and to the silent accusations of nepotism from his father’s associates. So he never allowed himself to rest, working himself to exhaustion, only having time for quick meals and coffee to go. He spent most of his time cooped up in his office or at the law courts, and when he’s on the move, he strode quickly and purposefully, holding a phone to his ear with one hand and a briefcase with the other, never sparing a moment for the sights or the people around him. He would be the last to leave the law firm, late at night, and he would go back to his well furnished flat, so quiet and immaculate that he could hardly bear to turn on the lights, fearful that he would see a reflection of his empty life in this sterile flat that might as well belonged to someone else. In the dead of night, in his too-huge bed, he would long for a different life, something that’s filled with a soul and purpose, a pointless dream that he would ruthlessly squash down when morning came and the daily grind began anew.

This was Merlin Emrys: he came to London on the urging of his mother, whom wanted a better life for her son, opportunities that he would never be able to reach for in their stagnant town. He found a job as an editor for a small publishing company, reading through other people’s works and correcting their mistakes. It was good work, with a steady income, and he should be content. In the evening, though, in his tiny room in a flat he shared with two others, he would create pages after pages of an epic fantasy, tales of magic and knights and adventure, and he would type until his eyes grew heavy and his hands sore. You see, what Merlin really wanted to be was an author. However, it was a secret he shared with no one. Because rejection had been an ugly constant in Merlin’s life – the abandonment of an absentee father, the cruel teasing of children as they laughed at his funny name and big ears, the ridicule when he confessed to his first gay crush, the invisibility he felt as people partied and drank outside without inviting him. So he protected himself, hiding his writings from the world, because his fantasy world was his last refuge, and he could not bear the thought of it being rejected too.

This had been their lives for a long time, and while both of them felt as though something was missing, it only made them cling more tightly to their established routine. Because it was familiar, and familiarity brought comfort, smothering as it might be. They might very well have continued in the same vein for the rest of their lives, each absorbed in their own world, never venturing out of their safe zone. But the true constant of the universe is change, as the saying went, and sometimes, a break in the routine happens, and lives are thrown just a little off-course.

* * *

 

It was winter, just a few days before Christmas, but this particular day brought some respite from the cold as the sun reasserted itself, holding off the storm clouds that threatened at the edge of the horizon, and bestowed upon beleaguered Londoners its warm rays.

On this particular day, Arthur's assistant had staged a revolt, clearing his schedule of all appointments and confiscating his mobile, insisting that he took a day off and holding firm despite threats of being fired. Arthur was secretly relieved, as he was exhausted to the bone and in dire need of sleep. However, the thought of going back to his empty flat and seeing it clearly in the bright light of day was too unappealing to him, so he walked around the park near his office, a place he had never stepped into before except as a shortcut to the other side.

With no appointment to rush to, Arthur wandered aimlessly around, eyes flitting from sight to sight – the bare crowns on leafless trees, the unnatural stillness of winter with nary an animal in sight, people sitting on benches with family, lovers, and friends, enjoying the rare gift of sun. Without a phone in one hand and a briefcase in the other, his hands hung awkwardly at his side. He dropped down on a bench, sitting ramrod straight, facing a fountain that had likely seen better days as water dripped sluggishly out of the spout, the final contribution of a dying pump determined to do its job to its very last. A man sat on the other side of the bench, eyes fixed blankly at the fountain as he tore off bits of bread for the birds clustered around him.

That man on the other side of the bench was Merlin, of course, who just had a really bad morning. The publishing company he worked for had been bought by a larger company, and Merlin and many other employees had been laid off. It was the latest in a life filled with rejections, and Merlin was so very sick of it all. Staring unseeingly out at the fountain before him, absent-mindedly feeding birds scraps of his uneaten breakfast, he thought despairingly of the applications and rejections that awaited him, all for a new job that he would most likely not even enjoy. Down-trodden and in low spirits, he was only vaguely aware of another person sitting on the bench beside him. 

They sat in solitude together, each lost in their own thoughts.

Unbeknown to the both of them, they had already crossed paths a dozen times before. Once, sitting opposite each other on the tube after a long day at work. Another time, passing each other on escalators going separate ways. They had once waited at the same traffic intersection before, even sharing an exasperated look as a cab had torn through the red light.

This moment at a park bench was just one of many chance encounters London had thrown at them over the years. It was nothing extraordinary, nothing earth-shattering, just two people sharing the same space as they unknowingly had many times before. If anything else had been on their minds, if Arthur had been thinking about his next appointment or Merlin his next deadline, they would have gone their separate ways again, and this moment would be forgotten in the graveyard of wasted opportunities, remembered and cherished by none.

* * *

This day was different though, and without the clutter of daily work distracting them, the loneliness they felt grew stronger, and the urge to alleviate it became more acute. They yearned to make a connection with someone, to feel less alone, and so as one, two strangers turned to speak to one another. Arthur asked if he could have some bread to feed the birds. Merlin offered to share some of his bread at the same time. Surprised, still sheepish that they had talked to a stranger in a city where most people ignored each other, they fell silent and stared at one another.

It was a moment that lasted only seconds, and yet, it was a period when their attention was fixed solely on each other, and involuntarily, they catalogued each other’s appearances. _Blond hair and blue eyes, with a fit body and a suit tailored to cut, practically an Adonis_ , thought a mesmerised Merlin. _Messy dark hair, shockingly blue eyes on a pale elfin face_ , thought a captivated Arthur. But most of all, they saw in each other’s eyes a familiar emotion, an expression they saw every day in the mirror – loneliness and a yearning to break free of the cage they'd found themselves trapped in.

Something electrifying and unfathomable passed between them. In that wordless exchange something lost finally found its way home, filling up a gaping hole somewhere deep inside their psyche.

Quietly, Merlin tore half his bread and gave it to Arthur, who accepted it with hands that were slightly trembling. The birds, which were previously at Merlin's side of the bench, now swamped around them, trapping them further inside the tiny cocoon of their shared world.

They fed the birds in silence. When the last bits of the bread were sacrificed to the ravenous birds, they flew away in search of the next lonely soul. Left without their buffer, but still basking in the warm glow of a shared activity and unwilling to pierce the peaceful bubble that had surrounded them, Arthur and Merlin smiled at each other hesitantly.

The silence was broken by Arthur, who offered a hand and his name. Merlin shook his hand, offering his name in return, and they quickly found something to talk about in the shared heritage of their names. Conversation moved on from there, stiltedly at first, both of them stumbling and unsure. Arthur was naturally abrasive, preferring to hide his vulnerability in jibes and insults. Merlin found himself instantly on the defensive, years of ridicule and rejection making him retaliate quickly against any imagined slight. It was perhaps not the most auspicious of starts. 

But they were both driven by a strong desire to prolong this moment for as long as possible, for it not to meet a premature end. So they persevered, Arthur toning down his barbs, Merlin learning to see the humour in Arthur's teasing. Gradually they grew more and more comfortable with each other, until conversation flowed so smoothly it was as if they were long lost friends.

And who knew, maybe they were indeed long lost friends. Once upon a time, there was a Merlin and an Arthur, united with a shared purpose and a deep friendship. Perhaps the inexplicable connection between this Arthur and this Merlin was a reflection of that old friendship. Perhaps they recognized in each other something more than loneliness, but a similarly ancient soul. Perhaps they had already shared lifetimes together. How else could you explain this strange connection between them, two people who had never met before but yet found something achingly familiar in each other?

Perhaps an explanation wasn't needed at all, and it was simply enough to know that something special had lain dormant between them until today, where under the nourishing rays of the sun, it finally flared to life.

* * *

Merlin had never considered himself brave. He preferred to hide in the shadows, showing only a facade of himself to the world, never revealing everything and never asking for too much. So he surprised himself when he found himself asking Arthur to join him on an adventure, to do all the things they had never found time to do before.

Arthur had never considered himself spontaneous. His life had always been strictly scheduled with colour coded blocks on his calendar, and the slightest change could throw him out of sorts. So he surprised himself when he found himself agreeing to Merlin’s insane suggestion, on this perfectly ordinary sunny day.

And so it was that they spent a day of firsts. Together, they became tourists in this city where they had spent years, if not an entire life, living in. They found a dingy restaurant with a fading signboard but delicious smells wafting out of it, and ate their lunch in there, talking and laughing all the while. They watched a matinee showing of a musical before taking the tube to destinations unknown, exploring the nooks and crannies of London. They walked down unfamiliar streets together, pointing out interesting sights to each other, and checked out the wares on the stalls of a random street market. Finally, as their shadows grew long, they ended up at a small Christmas carnival, where they sat on amusement rides and ate junk food, getting their hands and faces sticky with candy floss.

Arthur didn't think he had ever had so much fun before, having grown up with a stern and unyielding father. Merlin didn’t think he had ever felt more engaged with the world before, with Arthur’s constant presence beside him making him feel less alone.

They talked to each other too, moments of honesty interspersed among all the fun, and told each other things they'd never told anyone. Arthur spoke of his exhaustion and disillusionment with his job at his father’s law firm, of the heavy weight of his father’s expectations and the judging eyes of his colleagues. He listened in return as Merlin told him of a lifetime of rejection and fears, of his deepest wish to be a published author, of all the stories and characters that existed only in Merlin’s head, unread by the rest of the world.

They encouraged each other to reach for their dreams, and as the sun set and night fell around them, it felt almost as if the person beside them became the dominant source of warmth and light in the world. They drew strength from the other’s faith in them, and deep down within them, a tiny seed was planted.

* * *

However, moments could be prolonged but they were never infinite, so even this enchanting day had to come to an end. The clouds that had hovered hesitantly at the horizon in the morning now gathered over London after the sun's retreat. They gleefully released their heavy cargo over an unsuspecting London. 

Around them, people ran for cover against the unforgiving deluge of rain. Arthur and Merlin didn’t join them. Instead, they stood immobile, facing one another, aware of an energy between them that had been slowly building up over the course of the day. It was a day of firsts, a day to be brave and spontaneous, and at this precise moment, they were both thinking the same thing.

The first brush of their lips was light, just a brief touch with the slightest hint of pressure. There was no electricity or fireworks, nothing but an extension of the quiet peace that had enveloped them the entire day. It was a feeling of absolute rightness, of finally coming home and reuniting with an old friend, a meeting of kindred spirits. They moved apart just slightly, still breathing in the same air, and gazed at each other wordlessly, moved by the depth of emotion that swirled between them. As though drawn by a force neither of them could explain, they found each other’s lips again.

They could have stood there kissing each other forever, but unfortunately, it was winter and the rain was growing steadily heavier. Wet and shivering, they ran to the nearest tube station for shelter. Everyone had long since left, so they were the only two on the platform. Silence surrounded them except for the rhythmic sound of the pouring rain and the whistling of wind down the tunnel. They smiled at each other, both suddenly feeling shy, even though they had just spent a spectacular day together and shared phenomenal kisses.

But it was easy to share camaraderie when you were being spontaneous together, or when you were living in the moment, unaware of the magnitude of what just happened. Now, spontaneity had passed, awareness had returned, and they both grappled with the profound connection between them, having no idea where to go from there. The one thing they did know was this – that their meeting was a gift that should be treasured, because it was a rare opportunity that might not come again. 

Arthur’s mobile phone was still in his office, while Merlin’s had long ran out of battery, so they exchanged their contact information the old-fashioned way. Using a pen Arthur found in his coat pocket, they wrote down their phone numbers on mementoes of their day together – Arthur’s on the receipt from the restaurant where they had lunch, and Merlin’s on the ticket stub from the matinee they watched together.

If they had known what was coming, they would have never let each other go that night. But neither of them were gifted with foresight, and so with their precious scraps of paper tucked safely in their pockets and after one final kiss, they parted, heading back home on trains going opposite directions.

* * *

Finally back home in his expensive flat, having made a detour to pick up his phone at the office, Arthur wasted no time in taking a quick hot shower. Afterwards, comfortably wrapped in a soft bathrobe, he reached for that all-important piece of paper, phone cradled in his other hand. Across London, in his small room and rattiest pajamas, Merlin prepared to do the same thing.

And that should have been the end of this story. But the caprices of fate wasn't done toying with them yet.

What was once a perfectly legible string of digits was now irretrievably smudged by rainwater, with only a few numbers left readable.

Both Merlin and Arthur stared in horror at the ruined scraps of paper in their hands.

Hope, once held aloft by favourable winds like a kite on a windy summer day, was cut adrift as the string of numbers connecting them snapped.

* * *

 

For one day the sun had shone brightly, but nature giveth and nature taketh away, so the following days were dreary and wet, as though the clouds wanted to beat out all traces of sunshine left in London.

Alone in his room, listening to the sound of raindrops against the window, Merlin sat despondently beside his phone, as if staring at it will induce it to ring with the voice of the person who captured his entire soul in one brief beautiful day. He scoured the internet for any mention of his Arthur, but it was too common a name, and he had nothing to go on but a first name, the vaguest mention of a lawyer job, and smudged numbers on a piece of crumpled paper. He took it out time and again, trying random combinations of numbers, sending out tiny pieces of his hope down the wire. Unfortunately, the number he called was always wrong, and Arthur was never the person who answered his call.

Arthur was back at work now, even though all he wanted to do was look for Merlin. He spent his spare moments searching online for his Merlin, but it was too famous a name, and all he found were references to the legendary wizard. He redirected all work related calls to his office phone, refusing to entertain them on his mobile, or if he had to, he kept it as short as possible. He kept his mobile with him always, and whenever an unfamiliar number lit up on the screen, he answered it immediately, no matter where he was and who he was with. He ignored his father's displeasure and everyone else's frustration. The phone call he was waiting for was too important. Unfortunately, the person he was waiting for never called.

Christmas came, followed swiftly by New Year’s Day, unnoticed by the both of them. Separated from each other by the cruel whims of fate, they searched and waited for each other, curled up in their rooms beside their phones as the streets outside rang with holiday cheers.

Merlin went back to the fountain where they had first met, only to be confronted with the unpleasant sight of construction, as their fountain had finally given out and something new was being built in its place. Still, he sat in a nearby café for an entire day, anxiously watching the park entrance, hoping to glimpse a familiar face. But the person he was waiting for never came, and in the evening he left, head down and hands in his coat pockets, bitterly cold from wind and disappointment.

What he didn't realize was this: Arthur had gone to the park every spare moment of his day, every single minute he could take from work. However, the law firm was on the opposite side of the park. So, while Merlin had sat outside the café on one side sipping on tepid coffee, Arthur had stood on the other side, frantically checking each and every face that passed him by, never knowing that the person he was searching for was just beyond the tall construction fence.

What both of them didn’t realize was this: the threads of fate tying Arthur and Merlin together were so strong that nothing could keep them from being drawn into each other’s orbit. It had always been this way, long before they spoke their first words to each other, and this trend of missed encounters continued even now. They still walked past the same shops, waited at the same traffic intersections, gave pennies to the same busker on a crowded Tube platform, but just… minutes apart. Just slightly out of sync with one another, as though London meant to punish them for all the time they had squandered its benevolently bestowed chances over the years.

* * *

They began to look at the world differently after their encounter. More alert, more observant, more in touch with the world around them. They scanned each and every person in the crowd, always on the lookout for a face that’s both so familiar to them and yet still unknown. London, with its impenetrable sea of people and labyrinth streets and towering concrete, sent them into despair, and yet, it brought them comfort too, as it was a tiny piece of connection to the person they yearned to see again. Every interesting thing that they saw, every person that they passed, had them thinking, maybe, maybe _he_ encountered this too.

They began to change too. That day where they told each other their secret dreams and deepest fears still resonated within them, as did the encouragement they received from each other. It was that feeling of acceptance that they clung to as they finally dared to do what they had always wanted to before, to move out of the suffocating cage their lives had become and step out into the great unknown.

Arthur resigned from the law firm, inciting his father’s wrath and his demands that Arthur cease his childish rebellion at once. Once upon a time, Arthur would have caved in to his father’s wishes. But this Arthur, who had a tiny glimpse of who he could be with the right person beside him, was no longer the Arthur of old who craved his father’s approval. So he stood firm, and for the first time in his life, dared to go against his father. There was rage and threats and angry words, but Arthur refused to back down, and finally, Arthur was free. Dressed in a t-shirt and jeans, having thrown his oppressive suits away, he wandered around London, wondering what he should do now. Perhaps the hands of fate were steering him once again, for he chanced upon a charity organization looking to hire someone who could help with their clients’ legal matters. Somewhere deep inside him, the same part that had sung when he first met Merlin’s eyes, told him this was the right place for him.

Merlin, on his part, took out an old manuscript that had been collecting dust and wasted dreams in a corner of his room, and found the addresses of several publishing houses. Heart in his throat, he sent out copies of his manuscript. He almost turned back a few times as he walked to the post office, but he remembered how interested Arthur was in Merlin’s stories, and he knew that if Arthur had believed in him, then he could believe in himself too. Rejection came, of course, but he kept trying, even calling in some of the contacts he had made as an editor in his previous job. It was a tough period of time for him, as his savings dwindled to nothing and he had to juggle two new jobs as a tutor and waiter. Finally, one day, a letter came from a medium sized publishing house that was interested in signing him on. Not long after their first meeting, Merlin had himself a book deal.

Through all the changes happening in their lives, the other was never far from their thoughts, and they never ceased their search for each other. Still waiting for a phone call, still calling random numbers, still searching the internet and scanning the faces of everyone that passed them by, still wishing, most of all, that they could share all of life’s little disappointments and triumphs with each other.

In a way, they did share these moments with each other. Their lives still remained entwined, even if they didn’t know it then.

* * *

Merlin now had to make frequent visits to his publisher, and on his way there he would pass by an alley, in which a stray black cat resided. It would always meow pitifully at Merlin, and soon he got into the habit of feeding and playing with it every time he walked past. Merlin couldn't bring the cat home since his landlord wouldn't allow pets, but he still tried to make its life as comfortable as he could anyway. He erected a plastic box for the cat as a shelter against rain, snow, and wind, and on it he wrote _Kilgharrah’s abode_ , named after a majestic dragon in his novel. Kilgharrah seemed to love its new home, inspecting it from all angles and rubbing itself against Merlin’s legs, purring all the time, and Merlin felt as though his life had turned less lonely.

One day, though, after a brutal night of rain, Kilgharrah and his box were gone. Merlin was frantic with worry over what happened to his little feline friend, and he bitterly wondered why life always took away all the good things that happened to him – first Arthur and now Kilgharrah. Disheartened, angry with the world, he dragged himself to the café nearby and sullenly made his usual order. The barista, noticing his gloomy mood, told him the coffee was free, paid for by a previous customer who wanted to brighten someone else’s day.

Merlin’s spirits were buoyed up, cheered by the reminder that there still remained pockets of beauty and kindness in this world. On his way home he saw a sickly looking girl with downcast eyes, clinging tightly to her harried mother, both of them slumped with pain and exhaustion. In a fit of spontaneity he ran into a toy shop to purchase a gaily coloured balloon, which he presented to the little girl with great fanfare, introducing himself as a great wizard and performing a few magic tricks for her. The little girl brightened up, and even her stressed mother smiled, and Merlin whistled his entire way home.

Though they did not know it then, one day they would find out that Merlin’s publisher and Arthur’s new office resided on the very same street. One rainy night, while on his way home, Arthur had chanced upon a shivering drenched cat hiding underneath a quaintly decorated box named _Kilgharrah’s Abode_. Charmed by it, and pitying the poor cat, he had taken both the box and cat home. Even before dawn came the next day, he had decided that the cat would remain with him permanently. Happy with his new companion, and hoping to brighten someone else’s day the same way, he had asked his usual barista at his favourite café to give someone a free cup of coffee, paid for by Arthur. 

Afterwards, disheartened after a day of dealing with all the injustices of the world and feeling powerless against them, he would meet with his last client for the day – a harried mother seeking legal help, daughter in tow. The girl held a gaily coloured balloon in her hand, which was bestowed upon her by a real-life wizard, and Arthur would smile, grateful at the stranger for caring enough to make a little girl happy.

London loved coincidences.

* * *

Time marched on, uncaring of the occupants it carried forward with it. Seasons changed, winter melting into spring, spring wilting into summer, and as daylight once again grew shorter and shorter, summer made way for autumn. And still they found no trace of the person who was the other half of their soul.

Every time it rained, they would stop everything they were doing and stared out at the rain, thinking back to the day when everything changed. They wondered what the other person was doing now, if he even still remembered a brief encounter that happened months ago. They feared they might forget each other soon, that as the bittersweet memories faded away, all they would be left with would be a crumpled piece of paper with smudged numbers as evidence that once upon a time, on a magical yet ordinary day, they had once found their soulmate.

And so it might have continued in this manner for them, always occupying the same space, but paths never intersecting again. Fortunately for the both of them, fate was not such a cruel mistress after all.

* * *

It wasn't by chance that they met again. Perhaps this was surprising, given how prominent chance had been in their interactions so far. But chance already had her way with them, and she'd moved on now to other hapless couples. So it wasn’t on the street where they both worked, or the café they both frequented, or even at the newly rebuilt fountain where they first met, though they still went back there sometimes. It wasn’t in a shop, or on a tube platform, or in any of the places where their lives had unknowingly intersected so far.

This was what happened, instead. After months of revisions and editing, Merlin’s first novel was finally ready to be published. One fine autumn day, as the leaves drifted lazily down to the ground, his first novel hit the shelves, and his books sold and sold. Each book represented a tiny piece of himself that he sent out into the massive world, hoping that perhaps, just perhaps, one of them would finally reach Arthur.

And they did reach Arthur. You see, in the months since their encounter, Arthur had developed a new habit. Every week without fail, he would walk into a major bookstore and peruse the new releases. Because he knew, deep down in his gut, that one day Merlin would publish his novel, and that book would be the arrow pointing his way back to Merlin.

He had conducted his ritual for months with no results, and hope, while not extinguished, was definitely flagging. So it was with no expectations that he looked over the new releases on this fine autumn day. Imagine his surprise, would you, to see the name _Merlin Emrys_ boldly embossed across the cover of a book, placed front and center on the shelf as though it was waiting for him. Shock reverberating through his entire body, echoing from his eyes to his toes, he took the book with a trembling hand. Flipping open the front of the book, he came across the dedication –

 _To Arthur,_  
_Thank you for a lovely afternoon, and for inspiring me to reach for my dreams._  
_I'll always wait for you, and I'll never stop searching._

Arthur would never be able to recount the hours directly after his discovery, because everything passed in a blur. He knew that he bought Merlin’s book, because both the book and receipt were clutched tightly in his hand when he reached home. He knew that he searched the internet immediately for Merlin Emrys, and found out that his next book signing was tomorrow in a nearby library, a discovery that sent him pacing around his flat, wishing he could speed up time. He knew that he stayed up late to finish the novel, seeing glimpses of his Merlin in the book’s clever prose and memorable characters, and if tears of relief and hope might have fallen on the book… well, no one else would ever know.

* * *

Merlin had no idea that the message in his novel's dedication had finally been delivered to its intended recipient, but it still didn’t stop him from hoping during every book signing that the next person who entered the room would be Arthur. His longing was so strong that when a blond man with painfully familiar features first stepped in, Merlin couldn’t stop blinking in disbelief at first, certain that his pining mind had conjured up a mirage of his deepest desires. The image didn’t go away though, and the man – _Arthur_ – looked anxiously around the room, searching… 

Their eyes met, and held, across the crowded room, and both of them knew they would never be alone again.

 

* * *

_finis._


End file.
